A Question Of Identity

On her 90th birthday she looked in the mirror

and tried to identify the face looking back.

She felt the same as ever

but the face,

that was the mystery

how could she connect the two,

how she felt and how she looked.

Perhaps a mystic would tell her

that the face had been through the fire of life,

but so had everything that made up her identity,

or more accurately, her multiple identities,

different ones for every occupation,

every relationship

and every situation.

The ones foisted on her by parents

were soon rejected and replaced

by the ones she made up for herself,

different identities 

but always the same person,

easily recognised

but not in that mirror

but something to celebrate.



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